After Hiroshima
by penguinwithapen
Summary: WW2 is finally over, and America is (naturally) extremely proud of his accomplishments. Running out of allies to relay his "epic" tales to, Alfred decides to pop up at Japan's place to exercise his bragging rights... He finds Japan bleeding to death on the living room floor. Perhaps, finally, America will realize the devastating effects of the twin bombs on the island nation...
1. Prologue

**Hello! This is my second fanfiction piece! (Yay! :))  
Unlike my other story, this one is a work-in-progress... which means I will be working on it at every given opportunity! :D  
Please feel free to review and suggest!**

_(This story is dedicated to all the Japanese who were killed or otherwise effected by the twin bombings... God bless you all... I don't want to take any side on any issue through this piece, but I personally do not think warfare is an appropriate way to resolve international issues... anyways, please enjoy this fanfic.)_  


_The long, bitter World War II ended with the only use of atomic bombs in warfare in history: the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki by the Americans...  
These bombings were the last of extensive bombing on Japan by United States air raids...  
After these bombings, Japan officially surrendered to the United States, marking the end of a world war that many hoped would be the last._

_Of course, America is extremely proud of his accomplishments._  
_Using air raids to force Japan into submissiveness? Brilliant! And ending the war with the two big booms? Epic!_  
_Of course, he conveniently ignores the fact that his actions killed 150,000–246,000+ innocent Japanese civilians..._  
_Feeling rather heroic about the whole thing, and having run out of allies who are willing to listen to America rant about the power of the U.S. military, America decides to pay Japan a little visit._  
_After all, he just won a huge war against Kiku! He has bragging rights, right?_  
_Right?_


	2. Chapter 1: In the Name of McDonald's?

**Hi guys! I hope that was quick enough :)  
****I'm sorry about the length of this chapter, but I thought it would be appropriate to end it where I ended it... I promise the next chapter will be much longer!  
Enjoy! ;)**

"Hey! Japan!"  
America raps at the door of Japan's little, one-story cottage with one hand, clutching an enormous bag of celebratory McDonald's burgers in the other. "Hey, Japan! Open up! Dude, I just completely pwned you in World War Two, so, seriously, you should at least let me in."  
To Alfred's annoyance, no raven-haired nation comes to answer the door. "Japan!" Irritated, he grabs at the door handle and is surprised to find that the wooden door swings open easily. "Japan, you left your door unlocked! That's stupid..."  
The interior of Japan's house is completely bathed in darkness and silence. America crinkles up his nose as a pungent, metallic scent wafts out through the door. "Jeez, Japan, don't you ever clean your house? Well, I suppose I'll invite myself inside..." Feeling oddly nervous, America steps up into the dark living room, simultaneously pulling a burger from his bag and beginning to munch. He fumbles for the light switch, and flicks it upwards, but nothing happens. 'What's up with that? Does he not pay his electric company? Well, it's a good thing I brought my flashlight.' Reaching deep into his hamburger bag, America yanks out a small, handheld flashlight (along with a few french fries), wipes it on his pants, and flicks it on.  
"Wow," America says, with a low whistle. "You really need to do some kind of a house cleaning, don't you, Japan?" He moves his flashlight here and there through the small living room, surveying the crumbling walls and cracked floors with distaste. "Seriously, even though you are definitely not hero material, I expected you to be a bit cleaner-"  
The small, yellow pool of light from his flashlight stops, hovering over a small, red puddle on the ground. America frowns, a slight sense of foreboding washing over him for the first time. "Eww... what is that thing?" Cautiously, he pulls out a fry from his to-go bag and dips it in the sticky liquid. He brings it up to his face, and finds that it has the same, metallic smell the permeates Japan's house, except that about ten times stronger. Grimacing, he drops the french fry. He sure as heck doesn't want to eat that any more. Not after it's been in...  
Suddenly, Alfred's feels a chill run through him. Is that... blood? "Erm... Japan? What's up with this? Is this some kind of a prank?" Feeling understandably jittery, America uses his old, unfailing method to easing his nerves: talking excessively. "Anyways, I'm here to rub it in your face that I'm the hero and I epically beat you in World War II! I mean, it was the perfect plan! The air raids helped, and then _boom_! The twin bombs-"  
America freezes as the circle of light -which has been waving randomly around as he talked -falls on a still form on the ground. "K-Kiku?"  
Hugging his hamburger bag tightly to his chest, Alfred slowly inches closer to the form. Yes, it is Japan, and he seems to be lying face-down on the wooden floor, his usually neat hair sticking up wildly in every direction. His usual, white uniform is covered in dirt and -my god, is that blood? -and is torn in various places. But the most harrowing portion of the scene is Kiku's shoulder, where a rip in the cloth reveals a large, bloody wound that America can only guess is a burn.  
The hamburgers go flying. "Holy _crap_! Japan! Are you... are you _dead_?"  
Japan lifts his head slightly, and, with great effort, manages the words, "A... America-san... this is... not a good time..."  
America drops to his knees beside the nation (conveniently ignoring the fact that Japan obviously wants him to leave), feeling extremely flustered. He laughs nervously. "You're faking, aren't you? There's no way..." Reaching out a finger, Alfred pokes Japan's shoulder, and is met with a scream of agony as Kiku shrinks away from his extended hand. America frowns and laughs nervously as he watches Japan's blood drip off of his finger, feeling a bit lightheaded. "Shit... you really aren't faking, aren't you? Um..."  
"Please... America-san... leave..." America is startled to see a desperate, even resigned look in Japan's eyes. With it, a lingering hate.  
"I can't just leave you bleeding all over the floor! I'm a hero, remember? Anyways, what in the name of McDonald's happened to you?" Kiku grimaces, his fingers clawing at the floor as he struggles to keep his head above the ground. Then, with a sigh, he lets it drop.  
"H-hiroshima," Japan gasps finally, and America feels his blood run cold.


	3. Chapter 2: Kiku Needs a Band-Aid

**Thank you for waiting! And yes, this chapter is longer! ;D  
****Remember, comment and critique is awesome by me! Please, please, please let me know if I get any of the facts wrong, or if someone seems out of character. ****Please enjoy! :)**

England watches Germany and Italy, who are sitting on the other side of him on his oaken dining table, and gives a small smirk. Germany scowls deeply and glares at him response, pushing forward a sheet of paper with two fingers.  
"There," Germany spits out the words, hatred written across his face. "The peace treaty."  
England nods, the smirk never leaving his face. "And you, Italy?"  
Italy stares at Arthur for a moment, trembling. Then he begins to wail. "Ve~! You are so scary! Please don't kill me! I'm too young to diiiiiiiiiie!"  
England stares at him, slightly dumbfounded. "What the..."  
Germany sighs, placing a hand on his forehead. He is obviously quite used to this behavior. "Italia. Ve are signing peace treaties. England is not going to kill you."  
"But he is so scaaaaary!"  
"You have made that point quite clear," Germany says through gritted teeth. "Now hand over that treaty!"  
Looking even more frightened than before, Italy begins to frantically rummage through his pockets. "I know I put it somewhere... Ah! Here!" Both England and Germany stare as Italy flourishes a handmade white flag.  
"Italia! Not again! How many times must I tell you that white flags aren't all that there is to surrender?"  
"What? But if I wave this flag everybody leaves me alone..."  
England sighs and watches, rather amused, as the Germany attempts to discipline a very unwilling Italy. ("But a white flag is very peaceful! See! I even made it out of your underwear with the peace sign!" "Vat the hell? Italy!" "Ve~ I'm sorry!") How was it possible that these nations kept the entire world at war for decades? Seeing them like this, submissive and honestly rather pathetic, the very idea seems absurd. Of course, Japan was a little slower to coming down to his knees, but America said he would take care of that. Chuckling quietly, England takes a slow sip from his steaming teacup as he enjoys the scene.  
Suddenly, his phone rings from a stand in the corner.  
Germany and Italy fall silent, both staring at England, who waves his hand. "Go on with your conversation... just pardon me while I take the call." Germany almost immediately ensues lecturing -or, more accurately, shouting his lungs out at -Italy about touching other people's... clothing. England stands, still holding his teacup, and takes a peek at the flashing dial.  
**Alfred**. England almost smacks himself in the face. Why does that git have to call him at every provocation -and usually, the provocation was nothing more than some new fast food store that opened at his place? And he is almost absolutely certain that this particular call was America bragging about how "awesome" his army is. Again.  
"As if America's blasted army is superior to mine in any way," England grumbles, determinedly ignoring the telephone's continued rings. "I... am not... answering... the bloody... call..."  
Then someone pokes him in the back.  
England snaps around, his entire body rigid. When he sees who it is that grabbed his attention, he relaxes visibly. "Peter Pan," he says warmly, staring up at the green cloaked, freckled boy floating before him within a pleasant, yellow aura. Of course, he is completely unaware that the other two countries are staring at him as if he is... well, as if he is talking to thin air. "It's been a while."  
"Enough with the pleasantries," the boy snaps, and England frowns at this change of attitude. Placing his hands on his hips, he orders, "Answer the call, Arthur."  
"W-what?" Britain sputters, stepping back awkwardly. "But it's just that damned America... he's not going to have anything important to talk about, and probably drive me up the wall..."  
"Well, he has something important to talk about now," Peter Pan insists, glowering at the nation. "Answer the phone."  
England laughs at the absurd thought. "What in the world that is important would Alfred want to talk about, for heavens sakes? That idiot..."  
"If you answer the phone, you'll figure it out!" The boy's aura changes from a sunny yellow to a dark, threatening purple. "Answer the damned phone, or I'm setting the Lost Boys against you!"  
"Alright, alright," England says hurriedly, snatching the phone up from the stand. As he raises it to his ear, he adds, "And mind your language, you're just a boy."  
Trying to ignore Peter Pan's protests ("I'm 108 f***ing years old!") England growls into the phone, "What is it this time, America? If you don't give me a tangible reason in fifteen seconds..."  
"ARTHUR! ARTHUR! OHMYGOD! OHMYGOD!"  
England cringes, holding the phone about a meter from his ear. There sure is no need for speakerphone. "Calm down, you git. Is this about your ridiculous fast food restaurant again? If it went out of business the world is a bloody better place..."  
"ARUTHUR I NEED A BAND-AID!" England smacks his palm to his forehead.  
"Then go get one at the drugstore, you idiot! Where do you keep your damn brain? Or do you even have one..."  
"It's not for me, it's for Kiku! Oh my god, where does he keep his bandages..." England frowns.  
"What's with the human name?" he says sharply. "And America, you shouldn't be doing something like getting a band-aid for an enemy country. Anyways, speaking of Japan, did you force a peace contract out of him?"  
"Yes, yes, I plunked atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagaski, or Nagiska or whatever," America answers carelessly. "Anyways... about the band-aids..."  
"What?" England feels a chill run through the air, and feels Germany's glare on his back. America and his stupid loudmouth... "Alfred! What were you thinking? Dropping atomic bombs on civilians... and stop talking about band-aids! You really shouldn't care about some cut on Japan or whatever."  
"But Arthur! I need some! Seriously!" England hears crackling on the other line. "All I can find are video game manuals. And Japan's no help... see? I poke him, and then..." There is a shriek of pain that turns England's blood to ice. Germany snaps up and slams his hands down on the table as Italy begins to wail loudly.  
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO JAPAN?" the two more serious countries shout simultaneously.  
"I don't know!" America wails from the other end of the line. "Get me a band-aid right now! Shit, all this blood is driving me crazy..."  
England hangs up, crashing the phone down with a lot more force than necessary. Then he turns around. The room is tense as England and Germany attempt to bore holes in each other's skulls, while Italy begins to whine about pasta in the background. Then Arthur sighs. "The war's over, anyways. Let's forget the whole hate-each-other's-guts thing for a moment and go see what mess Alfred's gotten himself into this time."  
Germany's look of hatred relaxes, and is quickly replaced with tense worry. "Yes... besides, I must always help my allies... After all, if Japan is hurt..."  
The two nations rush out of the house, leaving a very flustered Italy to scramble after them.  
***

Japan lies gasping on the ground, overcome with pain. As another wave of white-hot agony washes through him, the nation winces wonders once more what the hell America is doing to him. He closes his eyes. "America-san... please... s-stop..."  
"Shut up! It's your own fault, you won't tell me where your freakin' band-aids are." Alfred pulls out a new, mustard-covered hamburger bun from his oily bag and, kneeling down, presses it against the burn on Japan's shoulder, causing him to flinch once more. "Stay still and let me do my hero work!"  
Kiku begins to feel slightly nauseous. _Radiation Poisoning_. Feeling lightheaded, he grabs at America's leg. "A-America-san!"  
Before Alfred can react, there is a large crash as Germany forces himself through the door. England follows close behind him. "Vat are you doing to Japan, you bastard!"  
America jumps, and makes a feeble attempt at a smile. "Helping... Japan?"  
"Like hell you're helping him!" Pushing England and Italy -who finally caught up, panting -out of the way, Germany lunges towards America and pins him to the ground by his collar.  
"Dude! There's no reason to be violent!" America squirms under Germany's grasp. "Seriously, Japan's going to be perfectly fine after I'm through with him! Let me go!" Germany takes a glance at Japan, and is shocked.  
"K-Kiku..." With a deft swing, he slams Alfred against a nearby wall and gets down on his knees to examine his friend more closely. He looks awful, bleeding badly from various cuts and burns which contrast disturbingly with his chalk-pale skin. Japan tries to hide it, but his quiet grimace makes it apparent that he is in much pain. "Kiku... that damned America... you're half dead..."  
Seeing the worry on his ally's face, Japan shakes his head with some effort. "Germany-san, it... is good to see you... please, do... not worry about... me... I will be fine... just a bit... of rest..." His face lands on the wet floor at an awkward angle but, too weak to change his position, Japan simply closes his eyes.  
"This is no time to be polite." Germany picks Japan gently off the ground, being cautious not to disturb any of the nation's wounds. "Let's go vash these wounds... Italia, come help me."  
Squeaking slightly, Italy dashes after his allies. Japan, in Germany's arms, opens glazed eyes and -trembling -curls his fingers around his friend's arm. "G-germany..."  
"Do not speak," Ludwig orders gently. "Italia already does enough of that, so you don't need to worry about it."  
"Ve~? What do you mean?"  
***

England stares at the pools of blood with distaste, then turns on America. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?" he demands, glowering at Alfred as he picks himself off of the wall.  
"Well, you said to make Japan surrender, so I did!" America says defiantly, crossing his arms.  
"Believe it or not you _git,_ dropping a bomb doesn't solve every damn problem!" Glaring at America, he adds, "Besides, I told you to get him to sign the peace treaty, not drop a bloody atomic bomb on them, brutally kill civilians, and leave Japan dead! Believe it or not, a body can't sign damn peace treaties!"  
"He's not dead!"  
"Just about! Anyways, now it's your responsibility to keep Japan alive from now on so he can sign the bloody treaty. And don't you dare back out from this!"  
"That's not fair!" America flails his arms wildly, desperation written all over his face. "Seriously, I have matters in my own nation to deal with after the war. I don't have time to deal with this! And I'm too awesome! Why can't we just let his allies take care of him? They seem willing enough. Besides," Alfred adds with a small, angry pout, "I didn't_ mean_ to hurt him."  
"Bloody hell..." England places a hand to his face. "You are impossible, America. But it's you who did this to Japan, and you are going to take care of it, unless you want a World War III. In any case, I'm leaving." With a loud sigh, England marches out the door, leaving America alone in the darkness.  
There is a moment of silence. A look of guilt seizes America's face. "I... I didn't mean to hurt him.."  
***

After a while of searching, Germany and Italy find a bathroom. Or, at least, its remnants. Luckily, the bathtub seems intact, so Ludwig steps carefully around piles of rubble and, stopping in front of the tub, places Japan gently down on a clear patch of ground.  
"Are we taking a bath?" Italy asks excitedly, hopping up and down and flailing his arms. "That sounds like fun~ We can make lots and lots of bubbles and make pictures in the water together!" Germany sighs.  
"Maybe later, Italia. But right now, we must take care of Japan." Italy turns, noticing the injured nation for the first time.  
"What! Germany! Germany! What happened to him!" Italy is immediately on the brink of tears as he frantically attempts to get Ludwig's attention.  
"He is hurt, but he will be alright," Germany answers, rather uneasily. "Now, let's see if this water works..." To his relief, as he turns the knob with a squeak, water begins gushing out of the tap. After filling the tub and adjusting the water's temperature, he picks up a limp Japan and eases him into the water, not bothering to take his clothes off.  
Kiku groans as the water makes contact with his cuts and burns, and closes his eyes. After a moment of silence, he opens them and manages, "Arigatou, Germany-san, Italy-san... I apologize for the... inconvenience... I should... have been more hospitable..."  
"What are you talking about?" Italy says with a smile. "You're hurt! And when you're hurt, it is best to have your friends take good care of you and make you good pasta."  
Japan sighs and closes his eyes once more as he lowers himself into the water. "Still... I have forced you to care for me... I am indebted to you..." He smiles feebly. "You may... leave now... I feel much... better..."  
"Nonsense," Germany snaps. "Allies take care of each other. Therefore, Italia and I -or at least I -vill remain in your home and care for you." Japan is silent for a moment, his smile growing more peaceful, if not less forced."  
"Thank you. But, if it is alright... I would like only America-san to remain in my home."  
"What?" Germany is understandably shocked. "Japan, he vill kill you! Vhy in the world would you want him, of all countries, to care for you? You already know he is useless in medicine..." He reaches out and places a hand on Japan's forehead. Recoiling, he says, "Kiku, you have a fever. You are not in your right mind. You should get some sleep and ve can talk about this in the morning."  
"It is nothing like that. I do not need to be cared for." Japan shifts his position, leaning against the wall behind him. His eyes reopen, this time staring sharply into Germany's. "I will be absolutely fine in a couple of months. I am a nation, after all..."  
Trying to ignore Italy's whines for pasta, Germany demands, "Well then, vhy do you want America-san for? And obviously you are going to need quite a bit of care..."  
"I will be fine," Japan says again, with a determined look. "Please, Germany-san, I need America-san to remain. We must discuss political matters... determine the terms of my surrender... and I would prefer to do this in private."  
Ludwig feels a small wave of emotion, almost like disappointment, run through him. "So you are surrendering..."  
Japan nods. "Yes, I am. It is time for this war to end." He gives a short bow with his head. "Now, please, leave. Thank you for caring for me, but I must talk with America-san, now." Reluctantly, Germany stands, and -grabbing a singing Italy by the arm -gives a stiff bow towards Japan.  
"I vill leave. But I am always available if you need me... as is Italia."  
Then he walks, slowly, out of the restroom, hating himself more with every step. 'Vell, if Kiku thinks it is alright, then surely...' Then, before he steps out of the door -or what is left of it -he spots America rummaging through Japan's video games, goggling at each new find. Germany walks out the door, pulling Italy behind him, and sighs. 'Damn that America... vhat the hell am I leaving Japan up against?"


	4. Chapter 3: The Sun Has Set

**Many apologies for this extremely late chapter! I blame school... but I promise, promise, promise, that I will get the next one in as quickly as I can. ;) Besides, in the next chapter, there is a scene I'm EXTREMELY excited about... hee. **

**Reviews please~ It makes author happy!**

Kiku finally lets out a sigh. Slowly, he stands on unsteady feet and -pulling a towel out of a pile of rubble -dries himself off. He knows he probably shouldn't be walking around at the moment, with his bleeding and all, but he also knows that he has to be standing when he faces America once more. Besides, the warm water has strengthened him, at least, for the moment.

In their previous meeting, he was on the ground. 'Never again,' he thinks determinedly, stepping into the hallway and rummaging through a partially-collapsing trunk. 'I can no longer afford to show any signs of weakness to America-san. But first... thank goodness I miniaturized my cell phone.' He pulls out a cell phone about the size of a bean from his pocket and begins to dial.

China sits, huddled under a blanket before his blaring television, hugging Shinatty-chan to his chest as he brings another trembling spoonful of red-bean ice cream to his mouth. Breathe.  
He doesn't want to think about the war. It's over, anyways. The blood, the agony, the atrocity... all gone into the past.  
But the thoughts keep coming back and, shivering, China wraps his blanket closer to his body. Maybe if he turned the television louder...  
His phone rings.  
China nearly jumps at the sound, his eyes locking on his old-fashioned phone. The metal receiver is shaped like the head of a dragon, and as he stares at the figure, he forces himself to breathe more easily as he lifts his remote to mute his television. An ally? He hesitates, and then picks up the phone, gingerly placing it next to his ear. He clears his throat. "China's residence, aru."  
Whoever's on the other line clears his throat, too, a bit more uneasily. "C-China-kun?"  
China feels his body stiffen as mixed fear and hatred courses through his body. "You have one minute to explain yourself before I hang up, Japan. Aru."  
"Then I will be prompt in getting to the point. China-kun, I want a peace treaty. Immediately."  
There is a short silence. Then China gives a short, harsh laugh, trembling slightly. "You honestly expect... after everything you've done..."  
"The war is over. There is no use in keeping negative relations. No reason, China-kun."  
"There is every reason, aru!" China slams his hand down on the phone's counter. His palm stings slightly, but he ignores it as he crashes his hand down on the wood again and again. "You took over my nation, tortured and abused my people, raped them, killed them even when they surrendered and begged for their lives, for mercy... you cold-hearted fool..."  
Another silence, and Japan gives a soft sigh. "My superior will not allow me to apologize to your nation. He has agreed to formally apologize for his war crimes, but only that."  
"You ingra-"  
"But." Japan's interruption is quiet, but firm. "But. He never forbade me from apologizing to Yao-kun. So that I will do. Please forgive me, Wang Yao."  
_Japan bending rules? To apologize to __**him**__?_ Understandably shocked, China stutters, "Y-you have changed, Japan, aru. I mean... Kiku."  
"War changes people," Japan answers dismissively. "But please, let us return to the matter at hand. A peace treaty."  
China sighs loudly, feeling suddenly impatient. "The westerners have made you rude, aru. We must discuss this face to face, aru."  
"You can't come!" The voice sounds almost frantic, spoken a bit too quickly, a bit too out of breath."You... you may not see me, China-kun."  
China scowls. "And why not, aru?"  
On the other line, Japan takes a deep, shuddering breath, then releases it. "The sun has set on my nation."  
An inadvertent shiver runs through China. "What's that supposed to mean, aru?"  
"The sixty seconds are over. Good day, China-kun." There is a small click, and the call ends.  
The sun has set... what does that mean? Giving a half-hearted sigh, China grabs his panda-backpack and slings it over his shoulder. Then, television forgotten, he steps outside of his house for the first time in months.

Japan can't repress a small sigh as he pocketed his tiny cell-phone. That went virtually nowhere, although his heart is a bit lighter after talking to his ex-brother.  
"Japan?"  
The voice is quiet, tentative; it takes a moment for Kiku to realize that it is America. Straightening himself slightly, he steps out into his rubble-filled mess of a living room. He has a guest, after all.

China pauses suddenly in his gait, realizing that he has absolutely no idea where he is going. He stands there, contemplating his choices as he stares into a small grove of short-standing trees.  
He immediately decides that one of his allies will be the best choice; his enemies are frightening, and he doesn't quite wish for a direct confrontation with Japan, not yet. A scowl crosses his face. So it has to be one of the annoying Westerners...  
France was definitely out of the question, for obvious reasons. China sets his sights for England's place, but then he realizes it is about time for lunch and stops dead short. He is not planning on committing suicide any time soon. Not that he can die, but still...  
He is not in the mood to be force-fed hamburgers or drowned in Coca-Cola. That only left two people... China squints slightly, and the view before him becomes a green blur. Who was that country, again? America? No, America was already accounted for... then maybe... Kerrada?  
China huffs slightly in frustration. The name doesn't sound right, and even if he remembers who the heck that nation is he doubts he could find his way to that Kerrada-nation's house. Okay. So that leaves one nation...  
The great and mighty Russia.

"Ve~ You should relax more, Germany~" Germany looked up at his way-too-cheerful-to-be-completely-sane companion, his entire form rigid as he sits at the table in Italy's cozy kitchen. "Have some delicious pasta and be happy!" Italy pushes forward a steaming bowl of the said food with a large grin. Germany cracks a smile.  
"Thank you." He takes up the fork that Italy hands him and begins to twist a strand of pasta around it. This ensues for about a minute, before Germany puts his fork down with a sigh and a deep frown. "How can you be so calm, Italy? In this situation? Are you... not vorried about Japan?"  
Italy's smile flickered slightly, but remained just as bright as he pushed Germany's bowl closer to him. "Of course I am, Germany. But I think that, in situations where nothing can be changed, it's best to keep smiling and eat pasta~"  
Germany smiles, more genuinely this time, and relaxes slightly as he puts a forkful of pasta into his mouth. "That is a good philosophy. But I simply cannot afford to think that vay..." He lifts his fork again to take another bite, but is effectively interrupted by a tight hug from the back by Italy.  
The fork clatters on the table. Germany sits there, stock-still, until Italy lets go with a smile.  
"Germany, don't worry~ Japan is a strong country, I know he will be okay." There is a small silence.  
"Yes... I know." Trying to shake off the shock, Germany raises his fork again.  
"Um... Germany? Can I ask you a question?"  
"Go ahead..."  
"What's a philosophy? Can I eat it?"

"Japan!" America brightens visibly when Kiku enters the room, standing up from his spot on the rubble with a bundle of video games held tight to his chest. "You're walking! You must be getting better more quickly because you are a nation, right?"  
"Yes, America-san... I am feeling much better." Japan makes a feeble attempt at a smile.  
America grins widely. "That means you're well enough for video games!"  
"W-what?"  
"Video games! You have a ton, although a lot of the CDs are cracked." America hops up and down in anticipation. "Please, Kiku! I'm bored to death! Let's play video games! Let's play video games!"  
Japan sighs. "Alright, I suppose. What would you like to play?"  
"Let's play war games!" America claps his hands, his grin growing even wider. "The people at my place came up with this extremely awesome World War Two game! We should totally check it out..." America pauses at Japan's expression. Even though he can't read the mood, he can tell that the idea of reliving the World War didn't sit well with the island nation. "Or..." he says more quietly, "or we can play Hamburger Shop Express. It's... fun."  
"That would be good." Japan puts a forced smile on his face. "That... that would be perfect."  
"Do you have a television we could use?" America looks around, scanning the rubble.  
"I'm pretty sure there's one under there." Japan points to a large pile of debris before them.  
Before long, the two nations were staring into a cracked, but still functional, screen, sitting atop a salvaged couch and silently at play.

Russia arranges a vase of sunflowers by his windowsill, frowning as they wilt over the sides. He tries to straighten them in vain. "Why won't you bloom here, pretty flowers? Is it too cold for you, too..." There is a small knock at his door, and Russia pauses for a moment before abandoning his sunflowers to answer the door.  
"Hello, Russia, aru," China says stiffly, bowing slightly.  
Russia smiles. "You came to visit me! What a pleasant surprise, da?"  
"Don't get me wrong, aru! I am visiting you for purely diplomatic purposes, aru!" Russia's pale violet eyes seems to penetrate China, and he shivers inadvertently. "S-so, if we could get a place to sit down... aru..." The eerily innocent smile never leaving his face, Russia gestures China to a seat in a small stool by a marble counter.  
"So... China," Russia breaks the silence, sitting beside him. "What is your diplomatic purpose for coming here?"  
"I... I want to know what's happened to Japan, aru." China straightens, trying to look confident.  
Russia raises an eyebrow. "You haven't heard? What did you do, stay in your house all this time?"  
China shuffles uncomfortably in his seat. "S-something like that, aru. So what happened to him? Please say it quickly, I don't have time to waste. I am a nation. Aru."  
Russia's smile grows more prominent. "I can tell it to you in five words. America. Dropped. Atomic. Bombs. On. Japan. Whoops~ That's six words..." There is a brief silence. "China?"  
At that moment, China succumbs to rage.

"Awesome! I won again! Japan, did you see that? Japan? Japan..." America turns from the television screen to see that a very exhausted Kiku slumped back against the cushions of the couch, asleep. "Wow... you sure did conk out quietly."  
America stretches on the couch, then reaches out for a remote that isn't there. He frowns. Why doesn't Japan have a remote? Then again, it could just be a part of the all debris... Grumbling slightly, Alfred stands up and turned off the television manually. "Well... I guess I'll be leaving now?"  
The question lingered in the air for a moment. Then, in a giddy, impulsive gesture, he reached out to pat Japan on his head.  
Burning hot.  
America recoils, scowling. Japan might have looked better, but he must have been just barely holding himself together, with this burning fever...  
I'm the one who did this to him.  
A pang of guilt runs through Alfred, and he finds himself gently picking Japan up off of the couch. A hero couldn't leave someone like this on their own, could they?  
And anyways... perhaps... when Japan does wake up... America has something he wants to say.


	5. Chapter 4: World Peace and Video Games

**My god.**

**First of all, I am so so so so very very sorry about the ridiculously long hiatus I was taking. I'll spare you my excuses. Everyone please take a cookie. T.T**

**Unfortunately, I can't guarantee any writing speed... lots of things are happening.**

**Anyhow... I BELIEVE this will turn out to be the last chapter.**

**Thank you, all readers. You guys are amazing. (Comment, please!)**

**And now begins the (possibly) last chapter of After Hiroshima. Enjoy. :)**

**(And yes, I finally figured out how to do the line-thingy. *^ ^*)**

* * *

Russia watches rather passively as yet another vase of dead sunflowers shatters violently against his east wall, narrowly missing a large window draped with dark purple curtains. Plaster rains down and sticks to the velvet of the carpet. He clears his throat. "China~"

"What, aru?!" A few dozen shards of a previously hurled vase are flung across the room.

"I don't really have a problem with your destruction of my house; it's actually very entertaining." Russia bends down and picks up a piece of wilted sunflower. "I just never knew you had such a grudge against sunflowers, China."

China turns to Russia, eyes wild. "Idiot, aru! It's not... I never..." There is a brief silence, in which China's suddenly wavering glance meets Russia's unfaltering one. Then the Asian nation's knees buckle underneath him. Russia guides him to an armchair, and China falls backwards into the plush fabric. His hands over his face, he mutters, "I don't... Have a problem... With sunflowers... Aru..."

Russia watches him for a moment in silence, his expression unchanging. "China~?"

"...yes?

"Your hands are bleeding all over my chair." China stares numbly down at his hands. Surely enough, several large, open gashes from the vase shards cover his hands.

China gives a small, slightly irritated huff. "I'm sorry about your expensive couch, aru. But it wasn't by choice that-"

"It's not that." Russia straightens up and walks to a drawer. Opening it, he pulls out a roll of bandage, then returns to China's side. He then begins to wrap the injured hands.

China is silent for a moment, not sure how to respond to this unexpected kindness. Russia, also, doesn't say a word.

For a long time, this silence is left unbroken.

Then, as Russia tears the last of the bandage and secures it on China's hand, the Asian country stands. "Thank you, Russia, aru," he manages, a little awkwardly. He turns, walks to the front door, and opens it.

"China? Where are you going? I don't mind people in my house, you know..."

"I'm not going to America's place, if that's what you're worried about. Yet. Aru." China heads out the door, in his hurry slamming the door behind him.

The sound of the door reverberates through Russia's mansion for a while, then vanishes completely. Russia, still in his position beside the armchair, reaches out to feel the fabric. "Already cold... ah, well, it's as expected, I'm not surprised." Russia stands and promptly begins to clean up the mess in his living room.

And yet, there is a tinge of disappointment in his actions as he gently reaches out to pick up a ruined sunflower, its lowest petal soaked in red familiarity.  
***

America sits beside Japan for about four hours before he realizes that he has absolutely no idea what he's doing. He stands up, suddenly a bit flustered, and checks Japan again, asleep in the bed he put him in. His body is still very feverish.

Although the concept of a fever is still fairly new to him, America knows that it's not exactly a good thing. He sighs, reaches for the phone in his pocket, and calls the first number he can think of (and certainly the only one he can remember).

After a few moments, England picks up. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Hi England!"

"Alfred?! This isn't your number, is it?"

"Um... Iggy, I'm on another phone?"

"_Whose _phone?!"

"Mine?" There is a brief silence. "Hello?"

The response is near instantaneous. "HOW MANY FUCKING PHONES DO YOU HAVE, YOU BLOODY IDIOT?! YOU'RE ALREADY TAKING UP HALF OF MY CONTACTS-"

"England..."

"What?!"

"Um... Japan has a fever, and I'm out of hamburgers. What should I do?"

England sighs on the opposite line. "Of course... Alright. Do you have a towel somewhere?"

America shuffles through the room, then picks up a discard towel on the ground. "Yup."

"Now dampen the cloth."

"Eh?"

"Wet it!"

"With what?"

"Water, you git!"

"Well why didn't you say so?" America walks to the restroom with quick strides, turns on the bathtub tap, and throughly wets the towel.

"Okay, now squeeze it out."

America scowls. "Then what was the point of wetting-"

"Just _listen_ to me, damn it! You asked for my help, didn't you?"

America wrings the towel until it lies limp and damp on his hands. "Okay, now-"

There is the sound of banging on wood from America's phone. "Wait a second, I'll call you back. Don't do anything."

The call ends. America waits for three long seconds. "What the hell, I'll do whatever I want." He strides back into the room in which Japan is still sleeping, now rather restlessly. After some inner debate, Alfred folds the towel twice and places it on Japan's forehead, halfway covering his eyes. "That looks good! Ha! I laug. In your face, Iggy!" America begins his signature laugh, but stops abruptly at the quiet motion of Japan's lips.

America frowns, leaning in, but the words are inaudible. Ten, by instinct -as if someone had done this for him, too, years ago -, he reaches out and dabs a finger on the skin beneath Japan's right eye. It comes back wet. "H...hey, Japan..."

Japan is shivering. His voice rises to an audible whisper. "America..."

America watches, concerned. "Japan?"

"...I'm sorry..." Japan turns over, still trembling underneath the blankets.

America stands, still, for a moment, emotions crowding out any thoughts he had, leaving only a painful blank. Then one thought: _This room... It's suffocating me..._

Choking on the air surrounding him, America flees the room, trying futilely to leave the desperate confusion behind in it.  
***

England hangs up with a sense of relief, straightens out his clothes, then answers the door.

Of course, he didn't exactly anticipate China to come flying through the door and slam him against a window.

"What the hell were you thinking, aru!"

England struggles in China's grasp. "I have to say, I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about -bloody hell, let me go, this is no way to treat your host!"

"I'm talking about the atomic bombs!"

"W-what?" England hazards a laugh. "That was America's doing!"

"But who can blame him, aru?" China tosses his head with disdainfully. "He's an absolute idiot, aru. But YOU! YOU could have prevented this! What are you trying to do to the world, aru?!"

"Like I-"

"Just shut up and listen, aru!" China releases him and begins to pace. "Pretty soon, nations will be stocking up on these bombs, aru! For "security," aru. And then what will happen to us?! Threat of constant nuclear warfare, aru! Then what-"

"I know!" England cuts in impatiently, suddenly irate. "I know that this has happened and I know I am partially to blame! But what the hell can we do?! Just wait it out! Just... wait it out..."

"Nuclear weapons won't go away, aru," China says quietly. He gives a long sigh. "Anyhow, I will now go and see Japan, aru."

"No, you can't," England says quickly.

"Why not, aru?!"

"It will not be appropriate in this situation," England explains. "Your countries are not reconciled yet."

"But-"

"But you can call him," England cuts in, obviously not wanting to incite China's fury once more. "Go ahead, you can call him through my cell. He's at America's place."  
***

Japan snaps into consciousness. He is feeling much better; the fever must have broken. For some reason, America is not there. "America-san?" he tries, calling out the name of his host tentatively. He recieves no reply.

But his phone starts to ring. As in the tiny one, in his pocket. He pulls it out, which isn't easy. He tries to make out the caller ID, which is impossible. He sighs and picks up. "Hello?"

"This is China, aru." The voice is stiff.

"...China?"

"Yes. And as your superior, I command you to seperate Hiroshima and Nagaski from your being immediately, aru!" By the end of this, China is shouting.

"...what do you mean?"

"I mean that you should seperate yourself from the two cities; turn them into seperate beings, aru."

Japan sighs. "China, you know I cannot."

"What do you mean you can't, aru?! Your nation needs you, you can't be ill right now! And..." There is a short pause. "If you don't get better I'll never even THINK about forgiving you, Japan, aru!"

Japan bites his bottom lip. "...then I am sorry, China, but I suppose I will not be able to gain your forgiveness."

China's voice breaks. "But why not, aru..."

"I cannot put anyone else in harms way. I will not put someone else in pain for my own sake." Japan straightens up. "I am a country. I can manage this. But a city, even a province..."

"...I see," China says finally. A sigh can be heard from his side of the line. "Then you must do something for me, Kiku, aru."

"Kiku...?"

"Put the phone on your forehead, Kiku, aru."

Confused, Japan does as he is told. He feels a gentle vibration against his forehead, just enough to warm the surface of his skin. Then he puts the phone back to his ear. "...China?"

China is sobbing. "It's Wang. Wang Yao. And I forgive you, Kiku. With all my heart. Goodbye, Japan, on which the sun rises."

The call ends.

Japan holds the phone close to his heart. "Goodbye, China, upon which the moon shines bright."  
***

Japan repockets his phone just in time to see America burst into the room. "Ah, America-san."

"Yeah, hey." America has a forced smile stretched across his face. "Come! Let's play video games!"

"W-what?" America helps Japan to his feet and leads him into the living room (turned game room). "A-alright."

America walks briskly down the hallway, makes a dash for the game system, then begins to set it up with record speed. He inserts the WW2 disk as Japan awkwardly finds a seat on the sofa. "You know, there's more than one ending to this game."

"Huh?"

"Come on! Let's have some fun!" America says in an excessively cheerful voice. "Bomb New York City! Bomb Washington. Let's go for it!"

"...what..."

"Come on! It's just a game, right? And I... I sure as hell deserve it!" America shoves a fame controller into Japan's hands and waves his own. "Let's play! We should totally-"

"America!" Japan drops his game controller and suddenly pulls America into a tight hug.

"...!"

"Don't be silly, America-san," Japan says quietly, into the folds of America's clothes. "If I add more fire to this world, it will burn down. Please, listen to me."

"..."

"America-san, I have done terrible things in this war. I... I frightened myself. I hurt many countries. China... Korea... you. Perhaps I could not have been stopped without the atomic bomb. I can't tell you whether or not what you did was right, or wrong, but I can tell you that it restored peace, and kept much evil from happening. Alfred-san, I plead for your forgiveness."

America stiffens. "Please don't apologize..."

"My conscience dictates I must. I am very, very sorry. Please forgive me."

"...Japan, isn't this rather too fast and forward? You must think of your country."

Japan smiles. "Kiku."

"Huh?"

"I am Kiku, and apologize to you. Will you, Alfred, accept my apology?"

After a small silence, America nods, smiling, tears streaking suddenly down his face. "Yes. Yes, I do."

Japan pulls back slowly. "Then I am at peace."  
***

"Agh!" Germany shoots up from his chair. Italy looks up at him in alarm. "I cannot stand it! Who knows vhat the hell is going on in America's house? I must call Japan!"

"B-but Japan said..."

"I don't care!" Germany whips out his cell phone and dials Japan's private number. After a while, Japan picks up.

"Hello?"

"Vhat's going on? Are you alright? Has America been taking care of you successfully?"

"Yes, Germany, I-" There is a clatter.

"Japan?!"

"HEY! THIS IS AMERICA!" Germany cringes.

"Hey! I can hear it!" Italy says, smiling wide. "That's so cool~"

"WE'RE REALLY BUSY PLAYING VIDEO GAMES, SO YOU SHOULD PROBABLY JUST HANG UP NOW," America continues.

Before Germany can answer, Italy squeals loudly, "America~? Can we join you? I'll bring some delicious pasta!"

"Sure!" America says. "Actually, why don't I invite everyone? I can totally beat everyone (especially Iggy-face) at Hamburgers! See you~" America hangs up, leaving Germany to glare at Italy.

"Italy!"

"Vehh? What's wrong, Germany?"

"You're trying to skip training again by doing this, aren't you?"

Italy pouts, then smiles happily, taking Germany's hand. "It's not just thaaaat~ I just think a party with everyone will be fun, after the war and all! I kind of missed them, you know. It'll be nice! C'mon~"

Germany remains stiff for a few more moments, then sighs. "Vell, I suppose a little party can't hurt-"

"Yaaaay!" Without giving Germany a second to continue, Italy drags Germany out the door.

Germany smiles.


End file.
